Calm Before the Storm
by Nighteyes27
Summary: Gandalf/Elrond. An interlude in Imladris. Unbreakable 1/3?


Title: _Calm Before the Storm (Unbreakable 1/3?)_

Rating: R for semi-explicit m/m sex

Summary: After (book) meeting Radagast and (movie) leaving Sam and Frodo on the road, but before going to see Saruman, Gandalf stops at Imladris for some time with his lover, Elrond.

Author's Notes: 1. This is just my idea of a behind-the-scenes look at the relationship of Elrond and Gandalf in The Fellowship of the Ring. I will try to make my stories compatible with both the book and movie. 

2. This isn't beta-d or anything. Not my best, haphazard at times, I'm nevertheless quite proud of this. I was bit in the butt with a story idea and it hasn't gone away. 

3. If I'm screwing with the timeline in this story, well, Gandalf is _much_ older than he looks! 

4. Tentatively planned other stories in the loosely connected 'Unbreakable' series are (they may not be written in order):

-_Am I Dreaming?_ (Elrond senses something amiss while Gandalf's on his mission to 

       consult with Saruman; Gandalf's view of his imprisonment)

-_Twilight_ (when Gandalf arrives at Imladris, before Frodo and co., after being held 

       captive by Saruman)

-_Twilight Companion_ (a movie side story based solely on the 'Men cannot be trusted' 

       conversation in the movie)

-_Nadir_ (Elrond gets the news of Gandalf's 'demise' in Moria from Galadriel and 

       Celeborn)

Disclaimer: None of the characters mentioned herein belong to me; all are copyright JRR Tolkien or New Line Cinemas. No copyright infringement is intended, and I'm making no money off of this. This is just my interpretation of unexplained events in the relationship of Elrond and Gandalf in The Fellowship of the Ring.

       Elrond descended into his main hall, where he was to greet his guest, unexpected though certainly welcomed.

       "Gandalf?" he asked, quietly and lordly. To his patrol that had escorted the wizard to him, he gave a small nod of dismissal, leaving the half-elf and his visitor alone. He studied the wizard, then, ageless gray eyes under dark brows piercing.

       The wizard seemed the same as ever-smoldering and mysterious, as unElvish as possible. _Two of the qualities_, Elrond thought to himself dryly, _that first attracted me to him._

       After Celebrian had gone over the sea, he had needed comfort and companionship, and the man had offered unselfishly. But what had been simple friendship and sharing had turned into something...else for both, and now most of their close friends and relations knew of the two of them as, if not lovers, then more than even the most loyal of friends.

       Elrond laughed silently, thinking of those first nights.

*******************

       "Elrond?" The tone was soft and gentle, somewhat uncharacteristic.

       "Mithrandir!" The light that Gandalf brought to Elrond's eyes was brief, but Gandalf took heart from the fact that it was there.

       "I had not expected you for some time, as you departed here but recently." Then Elrond's eyes widened as his mind conjured dozens of horrible ideas. "Has something happened? To Cirdan, or Galadriel...?"

       "No," the man answered steadily. His eyes rose to meet Elrond's slate-gray eyes. "Something has happened to _you_."

       "I am sure I do not know what you mean," Elrond said curtly, shoulders tensing, everything about him telling Gandalf to back away.

       "Do not turn your back on me, Elrond Half-Elven!" thundered Gandalf. "You know of that which I speak of!"

       "And I tell you, Mithrandir, 'tis none of your concern!" Elrond lost his characteristic composure. "You've no idea what it is like!"

       Desperately, he turned his back to Gandalf.

       "Ah, Elrond, my dear friend, I do not," the wizard agreed quietly, losing his burning anger of the moment before. His hand strayed to touch Elrond's back; pained, Gandalf realized the depth of tension this was causing Elrond. "But I would help you."

       Elrond jerked once, and suddenly, Gandalf found himself with an armful of Elrond, the Elvish lord sobbing into Gandalf's chest. So Gandalf spoke soft words to him, comforting and gentle, not truly words at all, but just reassuring noises.

       Elrond had subsided to just convulsing every few minutes when he fell asleep. Evidently, Gandalf had not deemed it necessary to move them, for Elrond was still cradled in Gandalf's arms when he next awoke, the wizard slumbering lightly over his burden. Without any conscious thought, he had started to trace patterns on Gandalf's chest, through the material of his robe and sheer shirt, moving more on instinct than any other stimulus. Suddenly, Gandalf had awoken, and man and elf had stared at each other for a timeless moment when Gandalf's body registered the proximity of Elrond. He dropped his head, flushing.

       "Don't, my friend," Elrond said. "This...I truly need this. Please?"

       Gandalf had looked intently at Elrond, sensing the elf's need for companionship, knowing the Elf-lord wouldn't offer if he wasn't serious, Gandalf's decision tempered only by the fact that he knew Elrond was fragile and hurting now, and the man didn't want to make it worse or take advantage of the fallen Lord.

       "Are you quite...sure?" he rasped out as Elrond started gently nuzzling his neck.

       "Quite sure," Elrond mumbled back, voice arousing interesting sensations in Gandalf.

       Gandalf suddenly laughed. "Then come to bed with me, my lord," he said, and picked Elrond up and, true to his word, carried him to bed.

***************************

       Elrohir, Elladan, Arwen, Galadriel, Celeborn and Glorfindel knew, of course. It would not be right for Elrond to conceal his relationship with Gandalf from those dearest to him. And it had been much to the half-elf's relief that his children and his wife's parents had not resented the man's presence in his life. They knew that, much as he had loved Celebrian, he needed Gandalf's presence in his life, to balance him, and save his heart from turning bleaker than Mirkwood was becoming.

       And he and Gandalf then began to dance the same dance, over and over, as they had become closer and closer and more intimate. Elrond worried constantly for his lover, as did Gandalf for him. Gandalf would ask him to journey Middle-Earth with him...and Elrond would ask him to stay in Imladris...and both would refuse. They had gone back and forth with this tête-à-tête for many years, and both knew neither would give in. Imladris needed its master as the road called to Gandalf the Grey. Neither could turn away...so they lived for these stolen moments, a few days here and there, a week, a month. To be together...then Gandalf would go, sometimes for years. But always, Mithrandir of the Istari returned to Imladris and the arms of its master.

       And Elrond knew, in his heart of hearts, that something much like the bond he had shared with Celebrian had formed between himself and the wizard. They could not exchange thoughts as he and Celebrian could have, to be sure...but he had a constant, if somewhat unconscious awareness of the human at all times. Strong emotional flashes could be passed between them, and (as had happened more than once), if either had felt their lover imperiled seriously or for a great time, they would return to their lover's side. However, Elrond was not yet sure if the wizard was aware of this bond, half-sensed, half-felt, and surely much weaker than any like bond Gandalf would have knowledge of.

       All this passed through Elrond's mind in the space of a heartbeat._ Nothing physical_, he decided with a certain relief as he scrutinized Gandalf from head to toe, reaching down subtly through the bond as well as using his own eyes. To seek any more across this fledgling link would surely awaken Gandalf's suspicions, and that was a conversation that Elrond had been putting off indefinitely. He had had a vague thought, after Gandalf had left after their last respite of discussing it with the human on his next visit, but with Gandalf troubled, now was not the time.

       Physically appraising his lover, he determined that Gandalf looked much the same as ever...bright blue eyes, gray-white hair (long, with a long beard to match), maybe a shade lighter. Short and somewhat burly. Muscular.

       Elrond reached across their bond, then, again, more worried now. _A matter of the spirit troubles him_, he decided uneasily, for rarely had he ever seen his paramour so out of sorts.

       He approached Gandalf. "Mithrandir?" he asked of the wizard, deliberately using Gandalf's Elvish name in an attempt to provoke a response. "What is wrong?"

       Gandalf turned, and Elrond could see his eyes, and gasped. They were on fire, was the only way to describe it. Burning hungrily, but with a shadow in them. Desperate, loving, uncaring. He had rarely seen his lover without his customary demeanor of calm.

       "Gandalf?" this time in the common tongue.

       Gandalf turned to him suddenly, held eye contact for what seemed like hours, and slammed him against the wall, the man finding Elrond's mouth in a bruising kiss that was nevertheless respectful of the Elf-Lord's personal and decorous limits. No Elf needed to see their Lord trapped behind an ardent human.

       Elrond broke away and rested his forehead on Gandalf's, both panting from the intense kiss. "Let us adjourn to my chambers," the lord of Imladris whispered.

       He took Gandalf by the hand and led him up the winding stairs to his room. To one that knew Gandalf as well as Elrond did, there was a certain air about him that needed reassurance and hope in a physical way. He needed to be loved right now, feel the slickness of skin on skin, the intimacy that being with a lover brought with it. And Elrond would certainly accommodate him. For all that Gandalf was needy and desperate, the half-elf knew with a bone-deep certainty the wizard would never hurt him in taking his pleasure-or in any other way.

       As he entered his chambers, Elrond knocked on the door to his esquire's chambers, having given the lad the afternoon off in reward for excellent service. Luckily, his esquire was in, and came to the door a moment later. "My lord?"

       "I am truly sorry to impose on you after I have given you your freedom today, my esquire, but it would please me greatly if you could instruct anyone who comes looking for me that I am indisposed and shall be until dinnertime tonight." Though it was worded as a statement, it was an order, and well the lad knew it.

       "Yes, my lord," the boy answered, a little dispiritedly. Elrond smiled. "And as a reward for your good service, I will give you all of tomorrow off, and I shall not renege on my promise this time."    

       The esquire grinned. "Thank you, my lord!"

       Elrond smiled, and backed into his room and shut the door. Turning to face Gandalf, he was again pinned against the wall in a fierce, hot kiss.

       "Robes," Gandalf grated out, tearing at Elrond's clothes. "Off. Now."

       "Bed," Elrond choked as he was left in a short tunic and leggings, pulling at Gandalf's belt and drawing his robes over his head. "On. Now."

       Then, as they flopped ungracefully onto the bed, they were somehow unclothed, and it was all skin on skin.

       As Elrond had noted before, Gandalf was desperate and loving in his lovemaking. He knew all the tender spots on Elrond's body, what he liked especially, and was unrepentant in using them to the fullest, both when filling Elrond and being filled. Not that Elrond was complaining, as he gave Gandalf the same treatment. Their bond, however unconscious and intangible, only added to the incredible sensations.

       Hours later, when they were comfortably entwined in one another, Elrond was pondering his lover's strange silence. Through their bond, he could sense that his lover's unease had lessened some.

       "Elrond?" Gandalf suddenly asked.

       "Yes, my wizard?" Elrond asked, pushing himself up to look the man in the eyes, and brush sweaty steel-gray hair back from his eyes.

       "I love you."

       Elrond swallowed hard at those words, his eyes coming up to meet Gandalf's. Knowing his joy and love were shining from them like jewels as he absorbed his lover's meaning. Gandalf said those words so rarely....

       "And I love you, my Mithrandir," the half-elf whispered back, as he brought his lips over Gandalf's in a sweet, tender kiss.

       "My lords?" The thump of the door was loud, as was the esquire's awkward throat-clearing. "The lady Arwen instructed me to knock on your door at this hour and inform you that, were you to arrive at dinner in a somewhat decorous hour, you would need to start preparing yourselves now."

       Elrond buried his face in Gandalf's neck and sighed.

       "Keep that up, my lord, and we shall surely be late to dinner," Gandalf laughed as he twisted and levered himself out of bed. Dressing hurriedly, they barely made it to dinner in what would be considered decorous time, both pointedly ignoring the indulgent smirk that graced the features of Arwen Undomiel. Luckily for them both, her twin brothers were not at home at the moment, for Elrond felt that being embarrassed by and in front of one of his offspring was quite enough.

       Afterwards, when they lay entangled in Elrond's chambers, Gandalf spoke again.

       "I ride forth tomorrow," he began hesitantly, "to seek the counsel of Saruman concerning a matter of great importance."

       Elrond sighed, again burying his face in the beard of Gandalf. "I know," whispered the midnight-haired half-elf, sadly. "Though I know not what troubles you, lover, I have sensed it. Is there any way in which I can aid you in your endeavor?"

       "Yes..." Gandalf gently cut him off. "I know you possess one of the three Elven Rings. Vilya, Ring of Firmament, mightiest of the Three. I know, too, that Gil-galad passed it on to you, his greatest friend, most loyal subject and wisest advisor."

       Elrond disputed none of these facts; he accepted long ago that Gandalf had accesses to near-forgotten knowledge that no one else had access to.

       "Is it well?" Gandalf asked quietly. "You still possess it, I trust?"

       In answer, Elrond fluidly dropped off the edge of the bed, padding naked over to his nightstand, lingering a little to let his lover eye his smooth, graceful, lithely muscled form. For all that Elrond rode into battle no more, his figure had lost none of its trim firmness. Gandalf smiled, a touch sadly, in appreciation. _So much wasted time between us_, Elrond too thought.

       But if there was one thing Elrond had learned in all his centuries, it was never to let a moment pass while lingering on the past. _I have to admit_, Elrond thought, _the moments of joy have more than made up for the heartache._

       Elrond remained there for several moments, then returned, clasping something in his cupped hands. He gently opened them and allowed Gandalf to look at Vilya.

       It was lovely, a large sapphire in a band of gold. Gandalf gently rested a hand over it, and Elrond knew he was gently probing it with his own magic powers.

       With a gentle sigh and a smoothing brow, Gandalf withdrew his hands and folded Elrond's fingers over it. Elrond silently walked back to his nightstand and returned, snuggling warmly into Gandalf's opened arms.

       "I would ask you..." Gandalf said quietly, "To keep it secret and keep it safe.

       "Please, Elrond, my love," he said, sitting up and rotating Elrond so that the elf lord faced him, "do not place Vilya on your finger until I return and tell you that it is safe to do so."

       Elrond stopped breathing, making one of those incredible leaps of intuition that was legend. "Tell me it's not..." his whisper died as Gandalf met his eyes. Storm gray met ice blue as Elrond swallowed whatever he was planning on saying.

       "Hush, lover, do not speak of it openly, even here," Gandalf tried to make it humorous, falling flat. His eyes were troubled.

       Elrond smiled sickly, seeing in his mind again and again Gil-galad's defeat at Sauron's hands and Isildur's fall from grace.

       "Worry not, my elf," Gandalf said, grasping Elrond's chin in his hand. "It may be an untrue assumption, on my part; for this is why I seek counsel with Saruman the Wise.

       "Besides, I have given you my oath that I will always return to you, Elrond, and when has Gandalf the Grey ever broken his word?"

       "Never," Elrond smiled weakly, swallowing hard.

       "I know you worry for all of Middle-Earth, my elf. I do not. With those such as you and I to call upon, Middle-Earth needs fear little.

       "But, lover, tonight is our own."

       With that, Gandalf fell back on the bed, tugging Elrond with him. And, for a time, they could both forget as they allowed themselves to claim the other anew.

*****************

       "My blessings, and my heart, go with you, Gandalf the Grey, Mithrandir, my wizard," whispered Elrond the next morning as he saw Gandalf off through Imladris' gates.

       "Have no fear, Lord Elrond of Imladris, my elf," Gandalf said, meeting Elrond's eyes with his own. "For I will return."

       He bent down from his horse to claim Elrond's mouth in one last desperate kiss.

       Then, in the tableau that had been enacted dozens of times, the wizard spurred his horse out through the gates, and the elf lord watched him go. Neither looked back.


End file.
